


Stronger

by septemberprudence



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Dubious Consent, Gangbang, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-16
Updated: 2015-06-16
Packaged: 2018-04-04 16:32:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4144743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/septemberprudence/pseuds/septemberprudence
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The night before the Montreal race, some of the drivers decide Max needs a lesson.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stronger

Max's head was spinning, his mouth dry. When he opened his eyes, there was only darkness, something thick and soft covering his face, preventing him from seeing. He was lying curled up on his side, maybe on a bed? It felt like a bed, the mattress and the texture of sheets beneath his skin, because he was also naked. He tried to move, but found himself restrained, hands bound behind his back, ankles fastened tightly together.

The last thing he remembered was being in his hotel room, then nothing. It had been Saturday night, he knew, with a race tomorrow. How much time had passed? He had no idea.

His first instinct was to call for help, but he guessed that wouldn't be wise, not until he could be certain exactly what was going on. There were voices, murmured conversations surrounding him with indistinct words and whispers.

"I think he's with us now, guys," someone said, and Max knew the voice. Button, surely, it had to be. His eyes were uncovered, and Max squinted in the light of the room, glancing around him as best he could without making any obvious movements.

It was another hotel room, not his, the furnishings bland and impersonal but still familiar, and it was filled with a group of men, watching him. Some had drinks in their hands, and they sipped at them, licking their lips as they stared. There was Button, yes, and Rosberg, Alonso, Magnussen. Grosjean was smiling, Massa smirking, and Hulkenberg looked as bemusedly unimpressed as always. Bottas seemed somewhat uncomfortable, but Max never had been able to get much of a read on that guy, so perhaps he was wrong.

"What is this?" he snapped impatiently. Max didn't have time for games.

"Driver's association meeting," Massa replied, and there was a ripple of subdued laughter through the room.

"Are you going to try to teach me a _lesson_?" Max sneered. They were pathetic, he thought, every last one of them, just jealous of him, threatened by him. It was like his father always told him, that there was nothing mediocrity feared more than genius.

"We're not here to teach you anything, Max," Button said calmly. He walked towards the bed, unzipping his jeans, taking out his cock and stroking himself slowly. "Whatever you choose to learn is up to you."

Someone took hold of Max's shoulders, pulling him forward until his head was at the edge of the bed. Button rubbed his cock over Max's tightly closed mouth, and said, "Come on, sweetheart, open up."

Max breathed for a second, wanting to resist but knowing that would seem like surrender, and there was no way he was prepared to give them the satisfaction. He closed his eyes, parting his lips, making sure not to gag as Button roughly pushed his cock in. Max sucked as best he could, taking every forceful thrust into his throat without protest.

"Aw, look," one of them said. "He's a natural."

_Yes_ , Max wanted to reply, barely able to breathe, _I am_.

.

They all fucked his mouth, one after the other, but none of them came, always stopping before they could finish. Max's throat felt raw with use, but he didn't complain, silently enduring, knowing they were trying to break him. They were more ignorant than he'd thought, if they believed it would be this easy.

"He loves it," a voice said. "See how much he loves it."

Someone unfastened the bonds that restrained Max's ankles and he was shifted on to his stomach, manhandled up the bed. Gentle fingers caressed his face, and Max looked up at Rosberg, unable stop himself gasping as someone parted his ass and a wet, hot tongue licked into his hole.

"Is that good?" Rosberg asked him, smiling, and Max tried to scowl back at him but instead he moaned, thrusting his hips back instinctively into the ministrations of whoever was behind him, angry that his face was no doubt giving away exactly how pleasurable it felt.

"Do you think we could get him to beg?" said one of them from the other side of the room. 

"I won't beg," Max muttered, and they laughed.

"He won't say it," said Rosberg. "But he wants it." He lowered himself down on to the bed, beside Max, and kissed along his jaw, voice low as he whispered, "Is daddy this gentle when he fucks you, Max? Does he tongue you first, open you up nice and slow like Romain's doing now? Or does he like to take you hard? I think Jos would like it rough, wouldn't he?"

"Fuck you," Max hissed, arms struggling against his restraints even as he still moved his hips, the tongue in his ass not even close to being enough.

Rosberg stood back, grinning smugly. "I think he's ready now."

.

A thick, slicked-up cock pushed inside him, and Max whimpered in delight, rubbing himself up against the mattress as he was penetrated forcefully. There was no point in pretending he wasn't enjoying it, but he knew he could turn that to his advantage. They wanted to scare him, intimidate him, but Max was going to show them that such tactics wouldn't work. 

He could take everything they were willing to dish out and more, he was certain. They had no idea what he was capable of, and the knowledge of that made him feel powerful, unstoppable.

"Harder," he said, "You need to fuck me harder." The room echoed with appreciative murmurs, and Max smiled to himself, gasping as whoever fucked him thrust in even more violently.

He wasn't sure how many of them he'd been taken by, soon losing count, but after a while his wrists were released and he was rolled over on to his back. Someone quickly pinned his arms over his head, but Max didn't struggle, not until his head was lifted, gently cradled in Massa's hands. A glass of whiskey was held at Max's lips, and he shook his head, keeping his mouth closed. He barely drank alcohol, and he knew he couldn't risk being even slightly hungover for the race tomorrow.

"Drink," Rosberg told him. " _Drink_ ," he said again, this time more forcefully, and Max knew there was no use in fighting, taking as small a sip as he could. It was good quality, he could tell, the smooth taste of it slipping over his tongue, but it still burned his throat as he swallowed, coughing a little. "Good boy," said Rosberg.

He and Massa rearranged themselves, Rosberg crawling up over Max to straddle his face and Massa at his ass. Rosberg looked down at Max, eyes gleaming as he stroked his cock, rubbing the tip over Max's face, precome smearing on his skin.

Max glared back up at him, and opened his mouth, turning his head and sucking Rosberg in just as Massa thrust into his ass. Max groaned around the cock in his mouth, and Rosberg laughed.

The two of them were soon done, shifting away. Max closed his eyes as he was forced to drink more whiskey, only opening them when he felt someone else climb up on the bed.

Hulkenberg was kneeling between Max's legs, and there was a strange, electric thrum of anticipation suddenly in the air, a tension that hadn't previously been there. Max didn't understand, not until he glanced downwards and saw Hulkenberg's cock. It was _huge_ , way bigger than anything Max had ever been fucked by previously, and not just tonight, but _ever_.

He swallowed hard, and the man smiled back at him enigmatically, not pausing as he lifted Max's hips, arranging them until they were resting on thighs; Max's ankles over his shoulders.

He pushed slowly inside, and Max almost screamed at the pain, the thick, unyielding force of it, but he only wanted more.

"What a fucking slut," someone said, and while the words were derogatory, Max could hear the tone of admiration. This was a competition, just like everything else, and Max knew he was winning, not holding back, writhing on the bed, practically wailing as Hulkenberg's almost impossibly large cock fucked into him.

Someone took hold of Max's cock, pulling on it with rough strokes, and he came almost immediately, shouting through it, going limp as Hulkenberg thrust inside him relentlessly, finally finishing off with a quiet grunt.

He pulled out, and Max collapsed on to the bed, trying to catch his breath.

.

No one said anything to Max as he lay there, but he could them talking amongst themselves, the sound of clothes being rearranged, zippers fastened. They all left together without a word, and Max wasn't going to acknowledge them.

Button was the last out and he paused at the door, looking back at Max. "Your room is two floors down," he said, and smiled.

Max smiled back at him disdainfully, watching him leave.

They'd tried to break him, and maybe they thought they had, but they'd soon learn the truth. 

They'd only made him even stronger.


End file.
